


I Have Some Letters I Gotta Write

by I_llbedammned



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Old Friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4624851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_llbedammned/pseuds/I_llbedammned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following some hard decisions that the Inquisitor had to make Varric has to find each of the companions that he used to travel with and give them a letter to explain what happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Have Some Letters I Gotta Write

There were few times that Isabella felt more alive than when she was on the sea. Everything about it, the creak of the wood and sails and the smell of salt, seemed alive at any moment. She would give orders and people would listen. After so many years of being denied its grasp through circumstances of money, obligations, or, Maker forbid, friendship she was trying to spend as much time on it as possible with her dear mistress. One of the benefits of being close friends with the Champion of Kirkwall was that it left her with a very pretty sum of gold after everything was said and done. She could have done without the mess of blood and explosions during the process, but with the money she was able to buy herself a ship, The Sailor's Lament, and sail far away from all of the civil war that was taking place.

She didn't think too much of what went on in Kirkwall for some months afterwards. Sometimes a word would cross her in a bar that the mages and the templars were fighting, but since she hadn't stepped foot in a Chantry since the Anders incident that didn't really effect her. Then one day the great green rift appeared in the sky and even though she was nowhere near the city, she just knew Hawke was involved. With a grin she knew that the problem would be taken care of, because that's what always happened when Hawke stepped in.

Her ship landed, well forcibly beached was probably more accurate, after a storm on the Wounded Coast. After cursing heavily Isabella commanded the crew to start scouting the area for wood so that they could repair the wounded bulwark and be on their merry way. A familiar voice called out to her from the cliffside around nightfall. "Riviani, is that you?"

She looked around before finally spotting the glint of the setting light off of Bianca on the top of the cliff. She waved before going about her business as Varric made his way down to her. His warm laugh filled the air as he approached, making Isabella turn around from the taking stock of nails. Her heart just about stopped in her chest when she noticed he was followed by a Qunari and a Tevinter mage. "How have you been?" he asked and though his voice was light she could swear that she saw something painful in his eyes.

She froze, stating at his big horned companion more than the other two, "Fine enough. The sea is a kind woman."

His brown eyes followed her gaze before he gestured to the two men following him, "My apologies. The big one is Tiny and the one in gold is Sparkler."

The tan man in gold robes gave her an elaborate bow, "Well with an introduction like that I hardly need to introduce myself but in case you wish for an actual name I am Dorian Pavus at your service."

"The Iron Bull." said the Qunari, flexing a little, "And don't think I don't notice you staring."

"Yes well, with muscles that big who could help themselves?" she responded with a grin far more cavalier than she felt.

"Relax, Riviani. These two aren't here to hunt you down. They are here as my companions."

"You are travelling with Qunari for fun now?"

"When you need heads cracked, The Iron Bull is here!" interrupted the hulking warrior, pointing his thumb at the large axe slung over his shoulder, "Plus I know how to sling back flagons of ale with the best of them. That's gotta count for something."

"I guess if you're going to be travelling with hulking brutes, you might as well travel with ones that like ale." Isabella said with a laugh.

Dorian grinned, "There's certainly worse company to be had. There's better too, but beggars can't be choosers."

Varric began to laugh, "I don't even need to tell their tales. They do all the talking. I'm just here to look ravishingly handsome." The dwarf’s head turned from side to side, looking at the busy crew around him. "Say, do you think that you have a place that you can talk -just you and me, Riviani?"

An eyebrow shot up and Isabella's arms crossed over her chest, "Anything you can say to me, you can say around my crew. These men have seen me piss drunk and naked more times than they can count. They're loyal and as good of man as I ever care to willingly travel with."

Varric put a hand behind his head, "You're really going to want to be somewhere else for this. Preferably sitting down." His voice sounded relaxed, but she could see him becoming nervous. Varric was never nervous, even when under live fire from enemies. What could have him so shaken? He turned to regard his friends with pain in his eyes, "Hey, can you give us a minute? I'll find you and we'll get right to dealing with the red templars." Both of his companions took seats on rocks and began bantering back and forth over their experiences on the sea.

The pain in his eyes hit home for Isabella and she began to have a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach. She motioned Varric to follow her down the beach to where her men couldn't hear her. "So what's up? You seem awfully grim and you look like shit. I see all of those lines where there weren't any before and it has only been a few years. I don't think dwarves age that fast."

"Thanks. You look good too, Riviani." He said, dully. Rustling was heard as he shifted through his pouch and brought out a crisp letter with a seal, "I'm glad to see you. I was going to send this out, but I guess it is better that you hear it from me in person anyway. There's no easy way to say this. You see there was an attack and Hawke went into the Rift. She never came out."

Isabella's eyes went wide and quickly her expression turned to anger. "No! You are lying!"

Varric shrugged, his shoulders slumping, "Usually you'd be right, but I wouldn't joke about this."

"Surely there's a way that she could have escaped, another portal. There has to be a mistake." Flashes of Hawke's winning smile while Aveline got more and more annoyed at their antics. Of Hawke standing before the Arishok and demanding that he return her friend. Of getting drunk together in Hawke's manor and ending up in a giggling pile on the ground.

"I was there. She knew she wasn't coming back and the way that place is." Varric shivered, "Even if she does get out, she won't be the same. No one can be after seeing what the Fade has to offer."

"You were there and you didn't try to stop her?" Isabella raved, anger flowing back anew. Without thinking she swung towards Varric, who was fast enough to move out of the way.

Rage crossed his face, "You think this isn't painful enough for me? Do you think anyone could stop Hawke if she wanted to do something? You may be my friend, but you swing at me again and we're going to have a lot more than words."

"I-I just-" Isabella's legs gave out from beneath her and she collapsed to the ground, burying her face in her hands, "It wasn't supposed to be her that went first. She was the one always trying to do the right thing. I know that doesn't make them always live, but nothing ever seemed to touch her before and-” Tears overtook her and she could hear a shuffling in the sand. A strong arm was placed around her shoulders, but nothing was said between them. Nothing needed to be said. After an eternity the tears refused to come and Isabella looked up with bleary red eyes, "I need a drink." She said simply.

"I know a small place nearby. I'll buy you a round." He said, helping to push her to her feet.

She yelled at her crew, forcing herself to look stronger than she felt, "Alright. Everyone finish up work here and then get to the bar for some shore leave. Addams is in charge in my stead." Grunts of acknowledgement sounded in response. One foot in front of the other she walked her way to the bar. Varric's companions joined them and she gave them both glares that were challenges in case they decided to ask her questions which neither of them did.

The bar they eventually arrived at was a shit hole that almost made her nostalgic for the Hanged Man, sending another wave of sadness that she fought off. The inside was full of a few drunken farmers, but otherwise empty. She went to the bartender, a very pretty redheaded lass with a large chest. "Whiskey." she said simply.

The bartender began to take out a glass, but Isabella interrupted her, "No. The whole bottle. Dwarf's paying." The bottle was handed over to her and she took a long swig from it. She took a seat at a table covered in carvings of genitals that amused her, but needed a few improvements. By the time that Varric joined her she had added in a few choice veins.

"Always the artist." he commented, drinking from his flagon.

"What can I say? I have a calling." She responded, taking another drink from the bottle. A few minutes passed while neither of them said anything. "I hope you aren't expecting a big emotional outpouring from me now. Back there that was different that's all."

"Emotions? Perish the thought!" He said, his face becoming wrought with fake drama, "To be honest I just wanted to hang around you because you smell better than most of the crowd here." He said with a grin.

"Good." she said, warmth beginning to flow into her limbs from the bottle. Her gold eyes scanned the bar, "They're watching us, you know."

"Who is?"

"Your friends. They think they are being slick about it to, looking away when they think I am looking at them."

Varric shrugged, "Not like there's much else to look at in this bar."

She cracked a smile, "Hawke used to pull the same trick. She would try to be smooth and then end up awkwardly stuttering when people actually approached her from across the bar."

"Did she really?"

"I used to goad her into it, mind you. I would pick out the prettiest men and women and then try and get her to see if they would walk over if she just looked at them. Worked most of the time too."

"I'm sure having the reputation for being a dragon slaying lunatic with a blade didn't hurt her prospects." Varric nodded, "I may have had a little hand in helping to make sure she had that reputation."

"Actually slaying dragons helps too. Remember that one week that she wore the skull of a baby dragon on her head as a fashion statement? The noblemen in Hightown nearly shit themselves when they saw it!"

"Yeah I remember. The Merchant's Guild had a slew of them all wanted discreet hunters to get one for themselves so they could be just like her."

They began to laugh, but the laugh was poisoned with grief. Isabella took a drink. "She was an idiot."

"What heroes aren't?"

"But she was my idiot. The weird rifts had no right to take her."

Varric took a drink and said nothing in reply. They passed by the hours like that, telling stories about Hawke until neither one of them could see straight. The dwarf bought them a room since Isabella could no longer stand properly.

In the morning the pirate queen awoke in a warm bed with a massive headache. Irritated at the existence of the sun, she grabbed for the bowl of water near the bed and splashed some on her face, drinking a bit of it.

"Morning." Varric groaned from out of her vision. She turned her head and saw him propped up in a chair by the fireplace. She made an incoherent noise in response.

"I second that emotion." he responded, forcing himself to get up and move around, "But I gotta get going." He left the sealed letter by the bedside table, "If you're ever in the area, stop by Skyhold. I'll buy you another round."

"Maybe." She said, not looking at him as the door closed behind him, leaving her utterly alone. Slowly she forced herself to move. There were things to do and ships to repair, the world had to keep spinning.


End file.
